Two ideas for House of Torment

My ticket was in my pocket waiting patiently to be released. My conscience wasn't so lucky. It twitched in curiosity and fear. My shaking hands gave the ticket to the gentleman at the entrance. He ripped it in half. My ticket, my security blanket, was broken. There was no going back. I'm fine. I'm fine. It's fake. The door lurked toward me like an omen. I wasn't ready for this.
"No Touching"
"If you need to leave, let one of the monsters know"
I approached the door. Oh my god. My heart was racing. They swung open.

My stroll with Clown man.

I thought the actors were supposed to be designated to certain rooms, but for the last mile and a half (or so it seemed) through the House of Torment, Clown Man was right there with me. You would think that his stalking would bring more fear out of me, but IT was more of a backup, a security blanket. A homeboy, if you will. That clown had my back. Once he was there, warding off zombie children with his toothy, never ending smile, and that small-country sized carnival hammer that he occasionally swung towards my face, I felt safe. His soft, breathy "oobie doobie"s that fluttered into my ear were like a gentle whisper. In half-dead clown language he was saying "everything's gonna be alright". He even escorted me to the end. I should have given him my number. We could have had something there.